We lived just two blocks from the beach
In a dirt floor bungalow,
With butterflies bolted outside
The living room window.
The dog will chew up any shoe
Left lying on the front stoop.
Let the screen door slam
On your way out.
Won't be too hard to find us.
Follow the lights straight into town.
Ask anyone at all,
"Where's the Alexander hotel?"
We grew up bookends either side
Of the library parking lot.
From throwing rocks, to throwing looks,
To throwing the bouquet.
My mother she's a character,
All around her cards and gin
But watch her close, she'll teach you about
Anything to win.
We'll be finishing each other's sentences
And playing uke for pennies.
Every friday night
At the Alexander Hotel.
Charlie's worked behind the bar,
Ever since we were little kids.
He lost two fingers and an eye
In a childhood accident.
He told me once he wakes some nights
His missing fingers itching terribly.
I read somewhere that phantom pains
Never go away.
Charlie's good for a case of beer
Friday night after hours,
If you let him come along.
Stumble home in the dark.
